683 recipes. Page 7 of 29
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Bok choy usually ends up in stir-fries, but blanched and dressed with doenjang (Korean soybean paste) it becomes a namul with crisp stalks and an earthy, salty seasoning. Rub the dressing right into the hollow of each stalk with your fingers.
Spinach, bean sprouts, carrot and zucchini are each cooked on their own rather than tossed together, which keeps their textures distinct even after everything is mixed. Blanched greens that are not squeezed dry leave the rice soggy.
Halved lengthwise and laid cut side down in a very hot pan, the bok choy cooks stalk first and only then gets flipped so the leaf edges char a little. The oyster sauce, loosened with soy sauce and a splash of water, is just enough for a thin, glossy coat on the stalks. Properly cooked, the leaves have wilted but a stalk still pushes back with some crunch when bent.
Store-bought jjondeugi, a chewy Korean snack sold in flat sheets, gets warmed in a pan and brushed with a thin sweet-and-spicy gochujang glaze. A plain, unseasoned product works better than one already coated in spicy seasoning, since the added glaze is easier to balance.
With fat running between the muscles, chicken neck meat never turns dry the way breast does; it chews springy and savory. It gets a short toss in soy sauce, mirin and garlic, a hot sear until a brown crust forms, and green onion stirred in for the last 30 seconds.
Garlic and chili flakes, given 30 seconds in sesame oil, turn the broth a deep red, and in it large spoonfuls of soft tofu wobble alongside plump oysters.
Deodeok, a mountain root with a bitter, faintly resinous aroma, mellows as the soy and rice syrup glaze soaks in, though the inside stays firm and chewy. The roots are lightly pounded and then torn by hand, and those rough surfaces take on a lacquered coat of sauce.
Translucent rice sheets come out of the steamer soft enough to roll around chopped shrimp, then get a lightly sweet soy sauce poured over the top. Hong Kong dim sum tables rarely go without them, and street carts there steam them to order, filling them with char siu or beef instead, or rolling them plain. This version uses rice flour with cornstarch rather than tapioca, and because the starch settles fast, the batter needs a stir before every pour. Too thick a layer makes the roll heavy and doughy, while too thin a layer tears during rolling. The shrimp are done only when firm and opaque all the way through, not when the sheet turns translucent.
Soft rehydrated wakame and lightly salted cucumber slices sit in a cold, sweet-sour dressing of soy sauce, rice vinegar, sugar and sesame oil. The recipe is built around plain dried cut wakame that only needs soaking, so there is no blanching step. Salted wakame or a ready-made seaweed salad from the chiller case will not give the same result, since their texture and seasoning differ.
Coarsely ground pork leg is wrapped only around the sides, leaving the top open, and a single green pea crowns each one before steaming. The coarse grind keeps some chew, and sugar with oyster sauce gives the filling a slightly sweet seasoning.
White, slippery mung bean jelly is mixed with strips of cucumber and carrot in a tangy soy and vinegar dressing. The thin jelly breaks if stirred, so it is lifted from the bottom with chopsticks about six times and no more.
Pearled glutinous barley and white rice are cooked in equal amounts, so each spoonful is soft like plain rice but punctuated by springy barley grains. The sauce decides the bowl's character: garlicky gang-doenjang, a thick simmered soybean paste, makes it savory and salty, while gochujang leans sweeter and spicier.
Mung bean jelly (cheongpomuk) is nearly tasteless and breaks easily, and keeping the pieces whole takes most of the care in a stir-fry. A 30-second blanch firms the surface a little and washes off loose starch, which helps the soy sauce stick.
Kimchi goes in at nearly the same weight as the pork, so the first thing you taste is its sourness. Short-cut garlic chives and pressed tofu fill out the mix, seasoned with soy sauce, garlic, and sesame oil.
Drumettes have plenty of collagen around the bone, and fully cooked, the layer under the skin turns pleasantly sticky. The soy and honey glaze sets dark brown only in the last few minutes, after the oven is turned up, and it can tip into burnt fast, so stay by the oven.
Pour in the egg, leave it for 30 seconds, then give one wide stir, and it opens into broad, petal-like pieces. From prep to table it takes about ten minutes.
Firm tofu cut into thick slabs and steamed comes out with a slight spring on the outside and a silky center. The soy and gochugaru sauce, left to sit until the chili flakes swell and thicken it, is spooned onto the hot tofu and seeps into each cut face with salty, mild heat.
Spread across a very hot pan and left alone for a moment, the noodles pick up crisp, browned patches while the centers stay chewy, and that contrast defines chow mein. It depends on dry ingredients: noodles boiled just short of tender and cooled, bean sprouts shaken free of water, and vegetables pulled before they weep. A thin coat of sesame oil on the drained noodles stops them from fusing into a clump as they cool. High heat from start to finish keeps liquid from pooling in the pan, where it would steam the noodles instead of frying them. Oyster sauce and soy give the strands a glossy, salty coating.
Jjokpa, a slender Korean green onion, is milder and sweeter than the thick daepa leek and can be dressed raw without much sting. That gentle bite cuts through the fat of grilled pork belly or grilled fish.
In the Hida region of Gifu, turnip greens salted down for winter turn sour by spring, and that is when they went into the pot with dried sardines, soy sauce, mirin, and sake and cooked until almost no liquid was left. Kumoji is said to come from an old court word for pickles. The greens soak through several changes of water, but a little salt is left in on purpose: without it, all you taste is soy sauce.
Slightly bitter chwinamul is blanched for 2 minutes and dressed with doenjang, soup soy sauce and sesame oil, then finished with perilla powder and scallion. The doenjang is worked in with spread fingers so it reaches between the leaves, and the greens rest five minutes before serving. In winter, when fresh chwinamul is not around, dried chwinamul soaked until soft can stand in.
Boiled pork and bossam kimchi left over from a bossam meal get a second life here, stir-fried with onion in a gochujang sauce and spooned over rice. The kimchi is chopped coarsely with its stuffing still in it.
A mild soy and garlic glaze, browned onto chicken, carrot, and onion, makes a stir-fry with no chili that sits well over rice. Breast or thigh both work, but cut the pieces to an even thickness so the thin ones do not dry out before the thick ones cook through. An opaque surface says little about the center, but cutting into the thickest piece before the pan comes off the heat shows whether it is done.
Octopus turns rubbery quickly under heat, so both the blanch and the grilling are kept short. A slice of ginger in the blanching water tames the fishy smell, and the glaze of gochujang, soy sauce, sugar, garlic, and sesame oil goes on in thin layers as the skewers cook.